


Assumption

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Vignette, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:02:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21776473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis admits a childhood thought before the end.
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 8
Kudos: 106





	Assumption

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He isn’t ready to head out yet, even though he probably should be—all the people he left behind have been waiting long enough. A part of him keeps whispering to _wait until the morning_ , but then he bitterly remembers that those don’t happen anymore. The sun won’t rise no matter how long he waits, or at least, they won’t see it—darkness blankets every direction and will continue spreading until he’s destroyed its source. He should leave and get it _done_ , but instead, he hangs back, savouring the little things. He runs his fingers through Prompto’s new stubble and examines Gladiolus’ new tattoo. He talks with Talcott and makes sure to learn the name of every glaive defending Hammerhead. He reads some of the literature inside and sees old drawings he remembers posted on the dinner walls, now crumpled and fading. He makes up a fresh cup of ebony and brings it to Ignis outside. 

Ignis is leaning against a wall around the back, hidden from the others, but Noctis doesn’t question it. It’s overwhelming for him too, seeing so many _people_ again, after he felt so horribly _alone_. The small handful left is pitiful, but it’s so much more than the dead remains of Galdin Quay. Ignis still bears the scars of a busier, brighter time when things were just as tragic. He looks up at Noctis’ footsteps, though he can’t see Noctis coming anymore. 

Noctis stops close at his side, because the night is cold, the breeze frigid, and Ignis’ body heat is as welcoming as it always was. Noctis finds one of Ignis’ hands and turns it over, lifting it up, preparing it for when he slips the hot cup of coffee into it. A small smile cracks through Ignis’ frown. Noctis gently wraps all ten of Ignis’ long fingers around the warm ceramic. 

Ignis murmurs, “Thank you.” He takes a sip while Noctis just watches, heart aching at the sight. He’s seen Ignis enjoy that particular drink a million times, and he’d give anything to see it a million more. After Ignis has lowered the cup, he opens his mouth like he’s going to say more, but he doesn’t. There’s nothing left they haven’t already gushed. They’re both so _glad_ to be back together. Ignis doesn’t have to put it into words again. Noctis knows. 

Noctis has a few things he wants to say before the end, but it’s hard, and he’s not ready for most of them. He starts with a lighter anecdote. He asks, “Can I tell you something?”

Ignis breathes, “Anything.” Noctis knows he means it. He was the one person that was there for Noctis from the beginning, always with him, through his absolute worst and his utter best. Noctis slips his hands into the pockets of his jacket to keep himself from throwing both arms around Ignis and never letting go. 

“When I was little, I used to think you were a Messenger.”

Ignis startles. He looks genuinely surprised. Noctis swallows. 

“I saw Luna had Gentiana, and I thought you were _my_ Gentiana.” He can still remember the awe and wonderment he felt when he first came to that thought. He’d looked at Ignis in a whole new light, though he’d always loved Ignis in one way or another. Ignis tilts his handsome face to the side. 

“What ever gave you that impression?”

Noctis shrugs. Now that he’s a grown adult—suddenly _in this thirties_ , just like that—he understands there was nothing concrete. He was being silly. “I dunno. I guess it was just the way you were. Always so stoic, and smart... you had that slight accent, and this almost ethereal quality to you. You were just... _cool_.”

Ignis chuckles like that’s absurd. But Ignis _was_ cool. He was everything at once. Intelligent, funny, a great cook, a deadly warrior—everything Noctis could think of. 

“And you were always so focused on me, like I was your whole world, and we had this almost... otherworldly... connection. When something bad happened, you were always there to protect me comfort me.”

“I cared for you,” Ignis says, like it’s some simple thing. It’s not. It’s divine perfection that Noctis was never worthy of. 

“I know. But... a part of me _kept_ suspecting it, even when I knew it was dumb.”

“It was dumb,” Ignis chuckles. “I assure you, I’m a mere mortal.”

Noctis mirrors Ignis’ warm smile. He knows that now. He mumbles, “It doesn’t matter. I love you enough for a god.”

Ignis’ grin crinkles his closed eyes. Noctis reaches out and presses one hand over Ignis’. Ignis’ smooth skin is better than the heat of the coffee. Noctis leans up his toes, kissing the scar tissue on Ignis’ cheek. 

Ignis shifts his cup into one hand and uses the other to pull Noctis in for an embrace. Noctis greedily returns it and hopes the Six allow him to enjoy it for just a little longer.


End file.
